Parameters
by chittylafemme
Summary: 18 year old Emma is sure that she doesn't love herself. Oftentimes, she feels herself slowly slipping away, abandoned somehow. She's what some might call a "lost girl", unstable in her future and dwelling in the past. How can she find solace from confusion when her brilliant, buxom middle aged teacher, Ms. Regina Mills, enthralls, entraps and enchants her? AU, extremely slow burn
1. This Will Be My Year

Author's note: I am drawing inspiration for this story from many sources, including American Beauty, Loving Annabelle, other movies and various songs by various artists, particularly Martha Wainwright. This fic is definitely AU, and sans Henry. Emma is not an orphan and there are just a lot of changes to certain things, as you will come to notice. Characters might be slightly OOC, but they have to fit in with the scene at hand, which is a high school. Written in part for Swan Queen Week's Teacher AU. Sorry if I suck at writing, and I appreciate any and all feedback, as long as it is constructive. So no flames.

This is a story based on my own, true life experiences in high school.

Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of its original characters.

**PARAMETERS**

_**A FANFICTION BY CHITTY**_

The night's air was starting to cool down when Emma Swan Charming's voice rang through it, loud and echoing through the abandoned forest clearing. Storybrooke had not been very populated in throughout its history, but the first clearing and the abandoned tracks took the town to a whole new level of desolate. The rusty train tracks beneath her feet screamed at her every time a chip fell from it's place on the iron, and Emma found it curious that they even existed, still. Storybrooke had a pretty good way about remolding the old and crusty parts of town, but in a way Emma felt relieved. The place was her own little secret, secure from other prying, wondering eyes. Her friends walking beside her knew too, of course, but she held strong faith they wouldn't say a word. The trees around her rustled in the light breeze, but it wasn't enough to keep the sweat from dripping down the bridge of her nose. Rotting leaves left over from the fall were strewn all over the ground, providing a strong, musty stench that could only be experienced at the clearing. The woods were dark and mysterious a ways down, and many had warned her not to go exploring, though she was always deadly curious, a nagging hand seemingly pushing her towards the abyss anytime she came near.

Hand and hand she walked with her boyfriend, Neal Cassidy, unsure and unsteady about her life, but confident that things would soon be getting better. After a rough junior year of high school, Emma was ready to take on big challenges and big grades. Wanting to be a crime scene investigator for the longest time, she finally got her biggest break yet with the Storybrooke Police Department snagging the single spot apprenticeship. Emma smiled at the thought of working with the sexy Sheriff Graham, toes tingling in anticipation at all the dead bodies, blood, gore and mysterious clues left behind at crime scenes.

Not that much happened around Storybrooke at all.

"You do realize that hardly anything ever goes on in this town, crime-wise? You're more than likely going to be squatting at a desk twiddling your thumbs, rather than doing any real detective work."

Ruby Lucas, going into her Freshman year, was a sassy one. Long, lean, tall and facially chiseled, she had won every pageant and modeling competition she had ever entered into, being recruited left and right for scandalous and sexy jobs, only to be thwarted by her granny making the sound argument that she was only 15 years old, sometimes with her shotgun at the ready in the face of persuasion. The girl had a secret penchant for wolves, and derived much of her personality from their example, eliciting a high rise out of the poor old woman. The girl would, of course, sneak out after hours and behave very badly, indeed. A few young men had the tendency of warming their beds for her, only to find out that she was an underage with their tongues already halfway down her throat. Ruby was a terribly good looking tease, and they all knew she was more than a bit of trouble, so they kept her out as much as they could with Storybrooke High Marching Band, something they were all proudly apart of.

"I think it's good experience anyway. It's not like she can go to New York or Boston right now, she has to finish school up here and stay with her parents for…a bit longer, even if she doesn't really want to. This will be great on the college resume."

"I told you Belle, I don't need to got to college to become a criminal investigator," Emma moaned.

Belle French was Emma's very best friend, and while she could sometimes be a bit on the stubborn side, she was the smartest and most compassionate girl Emma had ever known, hitting the highs and lows of high school all the way down, right along side her. Her parents had abandoned her at a young age and because of this, was very mother-like herself, and took responsibly for her life in her own hands. Her downfall was older men. She loved older men. They were her main obsession besides books, math and general psychology and philosophy. And they seemed to love her, with her luscious brunette locks, voluptuous physique, and bright blue eyes. She was a catch, no doubt, and Emma always thought she deserved better than what she aimed for.

Emma Swan, going by her first and middle name only, always felt strange in comparison. Like Ruby, she was very much a rebel, maybe even a pot-head as some would claim, and it was no surprise, as her boyfriend had been bad-boy of the century Neal. Yet she got along so well with Belle, the book-smart and mostly level-headed best friend. It's not that Emma didn't want to do well with herself, she just felt stuck somewhere in the middle. A lost girl amongst all the sure blood surrounding her.

She wasn't really listening to the conversation going on around her. She became fixated on the way her feet were stepping on each board of the track below, fascinated by the wood chip pieces falling to the ground. The air around her was tight and sticky. She wiped the sweat off the bridge of her nose and glanced up to the orange sky. It took on the appearance of sherbet swirled with vanilla, making Emma's sweet tooth subconsciously scream at her.

"Are you even listening, Emma?" Ruby demanded. Emma looked over at once, startled.

"Oh, no, not really Rubes. Sorry. My mind is somewhere else."

"Yeah, I know, you're worried about your grades again," Ruby responded. Emma sighted and shook her head.

"Yeah, partly, but I'm not worried about that so much this year. I'm more concerned with how my future is looking. I just feel so lost anymore, even if I am slightly optimistic about this apprenticeship and the opportunities it promises."

"Well it doesn't help that you keep knocking the job, Ruby. We all know you're jealous that Emma snagged the position over you," Belle quipped, throwing a disapproving look at the young girl, who huffed before sticking out her tongue, "and optimism is a tough outlook to hold in life, Emma. You should just become a realist, like me."

"Or a pessimist. Life really sucks balls, yeah? Can't deny the truth," Ruby said, taking a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lighting one into the air.

"It's already hot enough without you blowing that hot poisonous gas in my face," Belle mentioned, annoyed. Ruby grinned with the cigarette in her front teeth, wiggling it around to annoy Belle even more.

"Really though, Ruby, that shit causes cancer."

"Cancer-shmancer. If Granny can't get me to quit then you sure as hell can't, and I don't care what kind of mathematical excuse you give me."

"I'm not an optimist anymore, really. Those days are over," Emma said, shrugging and looked over at Neal, whose stubble got lost in the wrinkles of his face as he smiled, yellowing teeth all aligned. Neal had been two years older than Emma, and had already graduated. Emma's parents didn't agree with the relationship, but they kept on with it anyway, feeling that maybe a slightly older man could be a good example. His hazel eyes glowed with wonder whenever he looked into her blue-green ones, and somehow, he never failed to make her smile. When she was with Neal, the world seemed right. It seemed safe and ok. No one had ever made her feel so secure, and for that, Emma felt she truly loved him.

But she also knew something was truly missing.

"Are you sure everything is ok?" Neal asked, placing a thumb to Emma's cheek and tracing downwards from her dimple. Emma nodded quickly and kissed him, before looking back to the girls. Both smiled and looked onward, secretly wishing they had a love of their own.

"You know, I think it's getting quite late. We should all head home," Belle suggested.

"Before Emma's mom worries herself into a spell," Ruby sighed, and they all trudged along the tracks a little quicker.

"Ah, but before we all go home," Neal said a ways down, pulling a beer bottle somewhere out of his pants, a huge smirk plastered on his face, "are you ready to toast to another year of pure failure and dreadful black magic darkness at Storybrooke High?"

The girls pulled out the bottles from their bags, Emma pulling out her favorite hard apple cider from her black shoulder bag.

"On three! One, two, three!" Ruby announced before she brought the top of the bottle to her sharp teeth and bit down, displacing the bottle cap. The rest followed and brought their open, misty bottles to the middle of the circle, each one clanking when they touched. They all took a swig, laughing and smiling at each other before walking on again.

Though she had toasted to it, Emma had hoped very dearly that is year might just be the year that wasn't a failure, that she would finally make something of herself, where she could climb out of that slump, out of the dark hole she called life.

Oftentimes, in such a scenario, we tell ourselves only what we want to hear.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

The hot water ran through Emma's blonde hair and scorched her back on the way down. She had always like the water scalding hot, and by the time she was done, there was none left for anyone else in the house. She rinsed the last bit of shampoo through her hair and intended to get out, but suddenly had the urge to sit on shower floor and contemplate things a bit. She has always like to do that, even as a child, burying her head in her knees while the water cascaded down her sides and face, creating her own little aquatic world where it was just her immersed in the flowing water, unable to hear anything else. It gave her a chance to experience her own feelings, and most often, just how miserable she felt. There was always something going wrong in Emma Swan's universe, it seemed. From the outside, she had it all. Two parents that loved her, though it was suffocating, friends and a loyal boyfriend. Despite her luck in these areas, she was never 100% happy. Having gone to many therapists in her life at Belle's suggestion, they all tried to figure out exactly what was wrong, and they all seemed to chalk it up to depression, yet Snow refused to let her take any medication, believing that love (and some exercise with vitamin supplements) could cure everything. As much as Emma tried this, it never worked.

She was starting to believe love didn't exist.

She still didn't believe she was depressed. Sometimes she would hear small voices in her head telling her things that she couldn't comprehend, but it was usually right before she fell asleep. Psychics she had visited told her she was somewhat clairvoyant, and was hearing things from the other side. It was one of her powers, the other one being a built in lie detector. But that was really all the magic she possessed, and tried not to dwell on it too much. It was probably bullshit.

Emma sighed and lifted her head, letting the water hit her face hard. It was tortuously hot, and she waited it out until her nerves got used to the sensation before plunging back down into her knees.

"Missing…missing…something is missing."

She could see the hands stretching out, someone just like herself. Someone so kind, warm, present, soft. The connection radiated though, electric. They had met before. Dark, raven hair. A sway, a swagger. Such presence, such wit. Wild horses all around. A country-side smell. The bayou. A sad, twanging banjo. A straight, white smile. Innocence.

But where?

Her hands.

Emma had enough. She stood up and reached for the faucet, turning it off and standing up. She began wringing the water out of her hair and stood there, waiting till she dripped off before stepping out and grabbing her towel on the rack. She wrapped the blue cloth around her midriff, but not before admiring her abs. Though she wasn't the most athletic girl, she liked to keep up with her sit ups and was, for the most part, proud of her body. Until she looked at her face. She couldn't help but noticing all her imperfections; eye bags, blackheads, a couple pimples. She has always hated her skin, and that irritating chin that seemed to jut out just a little too far. The hatred inside of her boiled in her gut and she turned away from the mirror, grabbing her hairbrush, a maze of blonde hair within the bristles. She struggled to tear through the tangled knots while wishing water washed away the bad juju that always seemed to come around at this time of year.

Summer.

A knock on the door made itself heard.

"Are you almost done, Emma? I need to get in there and use the toilet."

It was her mother, Snow White-Charming. Emma had always thought it to be a ridiculously stupid name. She rolled her eyes and kept brushing.

"Can you wait like two minutes, please?" She remarked, blonde hair being pulled rigorously from roots.

"Ow."

She heard the slow hiss of Snow's sigh from the other side.

"You know I can't wait. You know my condition."

Anal retentive, or constant constipation. And when it finally comes, it may be but the only shot. Emma opened the door allowed for entry as the door shut behind her. She shook her head and pursed her lips, making her way to her pink room, a color that she felt she had grown out of for a while now. The last time the room was painted, she was ten. Eight years ago.

"This really needs a color change," Emma mumbled to herself, but it didn't matter. She figured she would be moving out soon anyway. She let her towel drop to the floor and headed over to her dresser, grabbing some dark blue panties from the top drawer to slip into.

_"Dark blue, now that's a color I could live with on my walls…" _She thought, grabbing both of her breasts as was habit. At about the same time, David Charming bursted into the room, garnering an eyeful of hands on tits and a crazed, shocked expression.

"Oh my god dad, what the hell, GET OUT!" Emma screamed, throwing a dusty swimming trophy from the seventh grade at him. The cheap plastic award just missed as it hit the door with a loud crash, tumbling to the wooden floor and shattering the swimsuit-flanked statue.

"Honest to god, don't you fucking knock?" Emma bursted out. David snickered behind the door.

"I've seen worse in my day. You really need to work on your aim," He joked. Emma sneered and hurried to her dresser to slip on her white silk shirt and pants. She hurled herself on her bed and laid with her hands behind her head. It was silent all except for David's breathing still present.

"Well, what do you want? I have to get going to bed soon. School tomorrow."

David inched in slowly, his head peeking around the frame.

"Yeah, I haven't forgotten. That's why I wanted to talk to you in the first place. Do you think you're going to be ok this year? This summer seemed especially…well, you know, bad for your-

Emma stopped him before he could go any further. Her body shot up and she pointed an accusing finger at him, her features all screwed up.

"I am not depressed. Ok? I'm not. I have been getting better," She huffed. "You haven't been inside my head and you wouldn't know. We hardly ever speak anymore."

It hurt Emma to say that, though she would never admit it. Her and her father used to be so close when she was a child. He used to go to the park and play with her, read to her, sing to her, play sports with her, and sometimes she would even fall asleep on his chest, and both of them would stay that way throughout the entire night, until Emma found herself drooling on him and quickly wiped it away, smiling joyfully at his own dopey grin and the saliva falling out of his mouth ajar.

David didn't respond to this immediately, only looking at her in a very concerned manner. His sparkling eyes bore into her blue-green ones. They fell to the floor before his next sentence.

"But you've been crying. A lot. I hear you at night from my room. I know you try and act all tough on the outside, like you don't care but…I know something is really beating you down."

Emma couldn't deny that. Almost every night she found herself in tears while trying to fall asleep. The lost girl, sobbing into the night, begging for some miracle that her pitiful existence might start making some sense. And maybe it was unjustified. Maybe she did have "first world problems". But Emma could never seem to be completely happy, no matter how hard she tried. It was as if any positive emotion that had ever occurred to her got sucked away in the black hole that constantly resided in her gut, above her head, in waking day and in her dreams.

Emma shrugged and returned to her father a very pathetic expression.

"Look, I know it seems bad, but it's getting better. I promise you dad, just…I don't want you to worry about me. You or mom."

"But you're our only daughter," David insisted as his body leaned away from the door frame and wandered to Emma's bed to sit beside her. His hand reached over to her face and he cupped her cheek.

"We love you, and we have your best interests at heart."

Emma smiled and placed her own soft hand on his gruff one. He leaned in and gently and kissed her on the forehead.

"Maybe you should start singing, and writing again. It'll make you feel better. You used to love musicals when you were a kid, too."

The pit in Emma's stomach dropped. An anger flashed through her once more, fire and brimstone, cleanly and clearly. She fiercely shoved his hand away.

"No way. Not again. The woman, the director, my acting teacher...she was such a bitch, and I just can't. It absolutely ruined me, you know that. I don't want to feel that way ever again."

David's lips pressed into a thin line and he stood up, making his way back to the door. He swiveled back to his daughter and sighed.

"Well, I wish you good luck for tomorrow. I know you're gonna need it."

He crossed his fingers before shutting the door, leaving Emma alone, in solitude once more.

She had prayed that for one night, the crying might stop.

It didn't.

She gazed through the self-created mist up at her ceiling fan making it's dizzying rounds, counting each panel as it swooshed in its circular motion. For years she had been looking up at the same ceiling, sometimes with the saddest music in her repertoire at her ears, hounding her emotions and shoving them to the forefront until they all spilled out into the tide of tears they had created. She remembered the same patterns of the plaster from so long ago, as a child, a happier child who was carefree and strong. And each time through her older years she thought the same things over and over, _when will this be over? When will I finally have what I have been looking for? Where did Emma Swan go?_

_When will my heart truly love?_

Once she could no longer take the maddening tears that streamed down her face and onto her stained pillow, she sat up and wiped her eyes free of the familiar liquid, and trudged over to her desk, where she turned on her lamp and found a pen. She hopped back over to her bed and laid beneath the windowsill, tracing her fingers along the smooth, baby blue surface underneath. She noticed the chipping paint and smiled faintly. It was perfect, and clean, and untouched, though it was so faded. She decided that she would put something permanent on it before it's charm was gone. Taking the black inked pen to the paint, she wrote:

_"And it was all amazing, just like I had hoped."_

She took the pen back to it's place in the mug other desk and switched off the small lamp. She resumed her place in bed, feeling a little bit better about her situation.

_"Maybe tomorrow really will be the start of a better life…" _She hoped, her mind whizzing away before finally slipping into Nirvana.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

The most annoying sound she had come to know like a brother sounded through her ears.

A groan.

It was 6 a.m.

August 31, 2009. Emma's senior year of high school.

Emma never took too long to get ready. She tucked in her striped blue and white t-shirt, put on some tight black jeggings, a black belt, long black boots and her heart-shaped necklace. She watched it glow in the mirror above her dresser and smirked. It looked so wonderful, somehow seeming to stand for everything she coveted out of life. She quickly threw her blonde, curly hair into a high pony and slipped on her glasses, at once applying a light red lipstick. She smacked her lips together before she remembered she had yet to wash her face and brush her teeth.

"Fuck, I always do that," Emma said, reprimanding herself. She went from her room to the bathroom, proceeding to wash her face and brush her teeth. She reapplied her lipstick and grabbed her large black shoulder bag before making her way down the creaky wooden steps of her house. As usual, Snow was in the kitchen making breakfast and David had already left for his position as general manager and owner at a weapons store, which was surprisingly successful for such a small town. He had aptly named his business "Prince Charming's Pistols and Cleavers". Emma only knew how to play with a sword properly through him, and some decently advanced fencing classes.

Snow smiled at her big and bright, hugging her as she came down.

"Are you excited for your first day of senior year? I know I am! I made your favorite!"

She ran excitedly over to the pan on the stove, where Emma saw four slices of cinnamon apple french toast sizzling inside the iron. The portion was big enough for the both of them.

"I made enough to fill that gigantic appetite of yours too! Oh, and don't forget the hot chocolate," She said as she motioned over to the table, where the hot chocolate sat on her designated spot at the table. Emma smiled weakly, not wanting to admit that she was simply not that hungry.

"Thanks, mom," She responded, taking her seat at the table, grabbing the mug and sipping at the hot, delicious liquid. She had to give it to her mom, everything she made had always tasted good. She was a wonderful homemaker, as well as a 5th grade teacher at Storybrooke Elementary. She loved everything about caregiving.

She rushed over to where Emma was sitting, coffee in one hand and a generously stacked plate in another. She threw the plate down in front of Emma before sitting down in her seat right across from her. Emma picked up her fork and knife and started cutting.

"How do you like it?" Snow asked as Emma placed a bite in her mouth.

"Delicious," Emma said. She wasn't lying, but she also wasn't hungry. She didn't have to distract her mother, however, as Snow always kept the conversations alive.

"So what's your schedule today?" Snow prodded with raised eyebrows, taking a sip of her highly doctored up coffee. Like Emma, she had an extreme sweet tooth. The blonde swallowed her bite before answering.

"Uh, I don't really know, I haven't looked."

"Well you should probably start looking, your first class starts in almost an hour!" Snow insisted, "Maybe you could look it over on the bus."

Emma waved her hand at her mother, while opening her bag, pulling out the schedule from a dark blue and light pink folder. Snow had bought folders for her and she had to use them as to not hurt her mother's feelings. Emma hated pink.

Her eyes scanned across the page, reading in order:

"First period, Leila Scammer, math. Second period, Leroy Grumpy, bio. Jeez, what's up with these names? Third period, french…"

And the list went on until Emma stopped short, choking on her hot chocolate.

"What's wrong? Do you have that acting teacher again?" Snow inquired, trying to grab the schedule just after Emma drew her hand away.

"No, mom, stop. It's just that I have Ms. Mills for AP English, seventh period. I've hardly ever interacted with her, she stays in her room a lot. I heard they were getting another teacher to help fill the student quota but I guess she stood her stubborn ground."

Emma gulped. Regina Mills was known to be the hardest teacher at Storybrooke High. And although she didn't need college in order to be a detective, her grades needed to be high to make it into the Boston or New York Police Academies.

"Well didn't you get the book from her before your last day in the spring?" Snow inquired, knowing that Emma had just written a paper.

"No, I had Belle pick it up for me. I was playing hooky with Ruby," Emma blurted out, silently panicking, "but I didn't bother to ask who our teacher was."

"Well, was it hard to write the paper?"

"Yeah, the prompt was difficult, but I enjoyed the book. _The Thirteenth Tale._ It was about some bookish girl who felt lost in her life and sort of found herself through an elderly, famous author."

Emma liked the book so much because it had reminded her of her own struggles. The lost girl.

"But my paper was dreadful, I think," Emma went on, throwing her head into her hands, "This woman is going to smash me."

"Well just take the class for the first day and see how it goes. I know you wanted to challenge yourself so why don't you give it your best shot?"

Emma sighed and took one more swig of hot chocolate before she got up and walked to the door. Snow turned to her, expression desolate.

"But you didn't finish your french toast!"

"Sorry mom, neither of us wants me to be late, and the bus comes in five. Bye," Emma said as she rushed through the door, slamming it behind her as she always did. Snow sighed and clasped her hands together in a praying motion, looking up to a ceiling she found all too familiar.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

Things were the same as always.

Emma's hope was dwindling, and fast.

Nobody met up in the lunchroom as usual for the first day because everyone went straight to their homeroom. Emma had the same one all throughout high school and the teacher was very nice. Her name was Ms. Nova, and while she had an absolutely sweet demeanor, it always seemed like people wanted to step all over her. And the succeeded. Sometimes, it was painful to watch them treat her like dirt and get away with it, abolsutely pleased and squealing to themselves. They were exactly as they had sounded-pigs.

All the stupid, clownish kids acted the same way they did in every class. The morning started out with a kid throwing up his breakfast in math class, resulting in the teacher fainting and the ambulance showing up at the school.

The rest of the day was filled with people throwing things, getting rowdy, loud, not paying attention, inappropriate jokes. Grumpy's class was a hoot, with Killian Jones blurting out beeping sounds after every sentence the teacher made. Grumpy stayed true to his last name and shouted very loudly at Killian, eventually kicking him out of class and writing him up, red faced and wheezing. This little debacle had taken up half the class time, when they were supposed to be going over the syllabubs and feebly squirming with introductions.

While Killian and Emma were good friends, Emma didn't appreciate his behavior in class and even less the huge crush he had on her. He often went all mushy and puppy dog on her, and Emma had to repeatedly tell him to "man up" and "get over it", and that they were "just friends". He never wanted to listen. He galavanted around with his band of "lost boys" most of the time and caused major, heart-stopping havoc around the school, just to get her attention. All the while, a pug-faced girl named Brice Blue (an even stupider name than her mother's) had a crush on Killian, and because of this, absolutely despised everything about Emma. It always happened to be that Emma and Brice ran into each other in the hallways, bumping into each other or otherwise, and all experiences left a bitter taste in the blonde's mouth. When they had to work together in class, Brice always faked sick so that Emma was left to do the project by herself.

Emma didn't even want to think about musical with Brice. That was a brutal affair of its own.

By the time seventh period rolled around, Emma was ready to roll up a blunt and smoke in the stairwell, an experience she was not at all new to.

She planted herself in a desk near Ms. Mills's own organized one on the right side of the room when entering room 108. It was a neatly decorated classroom, impeccably clean, with a few inspirational posters and a bookshelf that reached each wall in the back of the classroom. From where she was sitting Emma could tell there were many classics, moderns, dictionaries and teaching supplements. She was in awe at the number and size of some of the books, and it became increasingly clear how serious Ms. Mills was about literature, which made Emma even more skeptical about her own abilities to read, analyze, and write.

There was one whiteboard and a smart board on top of the wall in front of her, with a laptop connected at the side. Emma started to feel nervous at how official it all was. She, Emma Swan, AP English.

The lights all around her brightened, and her vision swam.

All the kids around her looked so smart. She knew some of them had been in this same level of a course for years and years now. They all chatted amongst themselves, not breaking a sweat. They were ready. Emma just felt like she didn't belong, in her simple attire and tough attitude. She was never a brainiac, and what was worse, she could never pretend to be one, either. She placed her hands to her throat as a suffocating sensation began to engulf her. She coughed.

Maybe this _was _a bad idea.

In that instant, Belle walked into the room in her yellow sundress and heels and waved to Emma.

"Come sit over here!" Emma yelled, and Belle rushed over and sat behind Emma. The two chatted about their day for a couple minutes, and this seemed to make Emma forget that her heart was positively pounding. Suddenly, the bell buzzed and everyone sat at attention.

Then, it happened.

The moment that would change Emma Swan's entire life-forever.

Emma glanced over as Ms. Mills pranced into the room. Impeccably dressed in a black pantsuit paired with a white collared shirt, black heels, pearls and dark purple lipstick, she flipped her hair and made her way to the front of the room, immediately greeting her laptop. She glanced up at the top of the board, which had a rotating sign that said, _"Welcome to AP English."_

Regina Mills acknowledged and smiled at her class, turning back to her laptop. Her teeth were so white and perfect. Her every movement was graceful and had such purpose, such finesse. Not a moment wasted on the superfluous.

This was a real woman.

Emma was immediately enamored.

"Look, I can make it go faster," She exclaimed as and she clicked a button the rotating sign on the smart board when into overdrive. The class busted out in laughter.

And she had jokes.

Ms. Mills proceeded to take a seat at the stool in front of the board. She crossed one leg over the other and folded her manicured hands into her lap. A smile bursted onto her face as she observed the ones staring blankly back at her. Emma noticed there was a bit of intimidation in the air.

"Welcome to AP English, everyone," she greeted in her raspy, sexy low-toned voice, "My name is Ms. Mills. I don't hold anything back, as most of you who have had me in the past know, and I don't hold any prisoners. You are here to learn. You are here to read, write, and analyze all literature that I assign. Here is the syllabus."

She grabbed a pile of papers sitting on her desk and passed them out. As she walked by, Emma looked up at Ms. Mills and smiled. The raven haired teacher smiled back, and continued on. The blonde noticed her olive skin, short stature yet incredible backside and physique. While she was definitely entering her 50s, the woman looked nothing short of magical.

Amazing.

A goddess.

"I see that all but one of you turned in your papers on , so good job on that. And all but one of you got a C. One person managed to snag a B-. Just so you know ahead of time," She said, pacing around the front of the room. Emma glanced over at Belle, whose face was flushed. She clapped her hands together and turned her head to look around at all the students.

"Your writing, it needs work. And a lot of it. But even if you have never taken my class before, I am here to help. The is my speciality, my passion, my life and my blood. I love literature or poetry, and if you don't love it as well, you're in the wrong class, and I would get my schedule changed as soon as possible if this is indeed the case."

Regina Mills turned her upwards-flipped brunette do and glanced over at Emma, unsure, knowing she was new. Emma was transfixed, and tried to look away, but she could not bring herself to do so. She felt herself turn beet red at the motion towards her.

In the next minutes, Ms. Mills went through the syllabus, and did a roll call. It was the first day and already Emma just could not keep her focus, Her eyes kept drifting to her every feature; her dark brown eyes and the way they flitted from the paper to the students. Her perfectly shaped lips, the way her hips swayed when she moved, her very "Italian" hand movements, her slightly unbuttoned blouse…

Emma shook herself out of her trance once the bell rang, and everyone gathered their things.

"I want three questions, asking about the lit devices used in _The Thirteenth Tale, _for tomorrow. Goodbye!" She demanded as she waved both of her hands at the already dispersing crowd. Emma sat there, continuing to stare, but Ms. Mills did not seem to notice her. Emma was gushing inside over every little eccentric movement the woman had put on display for the class that day.

_What a character!_

"Come on, Emma!" Belle tapped on her shoulder, and Emma grabbed her bag laying dormant on the floor and proceeded to walk out the classroom door, taking a moment to look back at a somber Regina Mills, who started blankly at her personal computer screen.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

"So what did you think of Ms. Regina Mills?" Belle asked Emma in the stairwell, placing emphasis on the name, certain that Emma was scared out of her wits and ready for a schedule change.

"I cannot believe she is real! I mean, I really think she is the most fascinating person I've ever met! I'm just blown away. She is smart, funny, witty-

"Try absolutely insane and loony," Belle huffed, heading up the next flight of stairs and pushed through the doors to the hallway above, "You know, I'll never understand why one door is smaller than the other. Storybrooke High at it's finest."

"I mean, yeah she's little eccentric and totally seems like a hard-ass, but I must say, I'm excited…and totally intrigued."

They reached Belle's classroom and hugged.

"Well, ok. You'll see just how "intriguing" she can be. I'll text you later!" Belle giggled, going into her classroom. Luckily Emma's class was right around the corner, and with books in hand, she skipped over to the room, a movement that was very uncharacteristic of the tough and cool Emma Swan. She sat down in the seat that was warmed for her and wondered just what kind of education she would be getting herself this year. Her heart was still pounding. She put a finger to her neck and checked her pulse.

"Huh," she noted, surprised it hadn't tapered off, "That's…interesting."

The gym teacher skipped into the room with enthusiasm and Emma groaned, rolling her eyes and observing the jump suit he was wearing. He was carrying the text book that read _"The Application of Health Science: 2nd Edition"_

Health class. Her favorite.

Just at that moment, a smile crossed her face as she remembered Regina's smile, her charm. She placed her hot cheek inside her palm and drifted away, staring at the green trees and sun drenched grass outside the window at the far side of the room. It was another period lost on the thought of Regina Mills. The gym teacher blubbered on as Emma transported herself to another world, one filled with deep, raspy voices and dark eyes, black as the sea.


	2. Blue Moon Magic

Parameters chapter 2

Note from the author: This story is extremely slow burn and completely ugly ducking Emma-centric.

Emma walked into the door of her house, with a bit of a skip in her step, and a full beat in her heart. Both of her parents had been waiting for her to come home from school to hound her with the usual questions. They were together at the dining room table, holding hands and talking quietly amongst each other. When Emma arrived, they looked over from their newspapers and coffee cups to smile at their only child, who was red in the face and panting from the heat.

"Jesus, Maine can get so hot sometimes. Really wild," Emma noted comically, throwing her backpack on the couch near the wall. She strutted over to the table and pulled out a chair, falling down into it and onto her knees.

"Hi Emma, how was your first day?" Snow asked enthusiastically.

Emma smiled and shrugged. "It was pretty normal. Same old garbage that always goes on at Storybrooke High. Nothing exciting, really."

"Nothing exciting? Well, are any of your classes hard?" David questioned, continuing to sip his coffee.

Emma's eyes rolled to the high heavens. Of course, there was one _hard _class.

"Well, I really think Ms. Mills's class is really going to challenge. She seemed pretty darn serious when reading out the syllabus. Seems like the type to really whip you into shape. I'm assuming because she takes the role of the "Queen" in the English department," Emma said.

Snow and David looked at each other, sort of puzzled.

"Well, you sound pretty excited about it. We thought you were going to be less than thrilled about the whole AP English thing," Snow said.

"Nah. I simply think it's amusing that she considers the rest of the department her "minions", Emma snickered.

David frowned. "You know Emma, I have heard some things about that particular teacher. She's pretty harsh with her students and she's not exactly the most social maven around town. She likes to stay in her house a lot. You know I have my reservations about recluses who like to keep secrets from everyone around."

David looked at his wife and she told him to be quiet with her eyes. She liked to be encouraging of her daughter.

"Emma, we're not saying you should quit the class or anything, we are jut warning you to really be careful and take it seriously…and not to fool around," Snow commented, waving her hand in the air.

Emma's expression turned to one of joy to one of fired confusion. Her tongue hit her top lip and her face flattened.

"Ok, whatever. I'm just saying, she seemed interesting. Maybe I'll actually pay attention this year. She's gonna push us hard," Emma explained, suddenly deciding she didn't want to sit around her parents anymore. She stood up from the chair, pushed it in, and walked toward the staircase.

"Aren't you going to tell us about the rest of your day?" Snow asked, frustrated that Emma had walked away too soon for the second time that day.

"No, if you'll excuse me, I want to be alone for a bit. I've got…homework to do," She said, running her fingers through her blonde hair. She continued up the stairs and her parents looked at each other, bewildered.

"But she forget her backpack down here," Snow noticed.

Emma quietly shut the door to her room behind her and threw her phone on her bed before sitting at her desk. She reached into her right-hand bottom drawer and pulled out a purple and blue striped journal. She opened it up and began perusing it and all its contents, things she has mused about in months, and even years past. She found writings of her first dates with Neal, and how she used to gush about him and how in love she was. She smiled at these, before getting to her poetry, and at this she shuddered.

"I was such a terrible poet, heh," Emma laughed to herself. She happened upon a blank page finally, and paused for a moment, the creases in her forehead showing themselves. She rapped her fingers on the desk and pondered for a moment before reaching over to the mug on her desk for a pen. Smoothing out the page in front of her, she pressed the pen to the paper and began to write.

_August 30, 2009_

_Today the most crazy thing happened. I met this woman. I mean, I knew she existed, but I didn't know who she was or what she was all about. I just knew I had to be there, and I am here for a reason. I really think I am going to learn so much from this woman, I can just feel it. My parents don't like this teacher already, but they always judge everyone before they know them. Belle seems to have some reservations about her too, but I trust they are simply in jest. I'm glad to be challenged, and who better to be challenged by then an extremely fascinating woman? I don't know why I feel so damn excited about her, I just do!_

Emma paused and tapped her pen to her chin. She had the urge to listen to some music while writing, so she ran downstairs to grab her iPod from her backpack while still avoiding her parents, and ran back up, throwing the headphones on and turning on the player. On came a song called "Romanticide" by Tal Bachman. Tal Bachman had been Emma's musical guilty pleasure, and she would never admit that she liked him. She had never paid much attention to the song before, but it had a funky beat and it seemed to fit her mood. She continued writing.

_Hopefully tomorrow will be better and I can get a sense of what this woman is all about. I have to know more. I think this will be a really fun year._

She didn't feel inspired to write anymore. Instead, she got up and started doing a little dance, which was rare for Emma. She just felt so elated that she had to let it all out, but quietly. She didn't want her parents to suspecting that she was happily dancing in her room, else they might start to question the reason why.

And the truth was, Emma didn't really know why, so it wasn't like she'd be able to tell them. She just like she would explode if she didn't let her joy out. It was as if she had prayed for this moment, the moment of pure ecstasy and bliss, and for once, her prayers were answered. She galavanted around her bed singing the melody of the song,

_"Whoever said to take it on the chin, whoever said that good guys always win…"_

She stopped dead in her tracks. She threw off her headphones and threw them onto her bed with her phone. She crossed her arms under her armpits and back herself up against the door.

_"Oh my god…this is exactly what happened to me when I fell for Neal!" _She thought to herself, shaking her head, breathing stepping up in pace. Her skin became cold and clammy, despite how warm she felt inside.

_"But she's…I'm not a lesbian," _Emma thought to herself, clearly panicked. She reminded herself to keep breathing as the world fell back into place.

_"No, that's silly…Neal and I are so happy. I have everything I could ever want with him," _She told herself, finally calming down.

"Yeah, yeah, that's just silly. She's just a fascinating lady that's all. I'm going to have fun this year," She whispered to herself as she laid herself down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling again.

_This will be my year._

The rose-colored feeling hit Emma again. It felt like she had jumped in a cool pool full of bliss. She let the tide wash over her. Breaths became slow, and she let a calm drowsiness take over. As she fell into sleep, she saw Regina Mills's scarred lips, and they seemed to be moving at her, in her direction. She were whispered something sweet and soft, but the younger girl couldn't make out what it was. All she knew was that there was a warm, brown haze surrounding her and the older woman, and everything in life the space seemed just fine.

_This will be my year._

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

Emma managed to think of three questions about _The Thirteenth Tale_ before class the next day, and was extremely giddy to have thought of such clever questions. She was so confident in her questions that she waved her notebook around in Belle's face while walking to the class the next day.

"My questions are awesome. They address all the lit devices, all the symbolism, and imagery used in this book and Ms. Mills is gonna flip! She is going to wonder why this genius was never in her class before!" Emma bragged, dancing around a bit around the shorter girl. Belle rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, ok, everyone goes into that class thinking their a genius until they realize that they aren't," Belle noted snidely, adjusting the flowery toe bag on her shoulder. Emma gave her a look of incredulity.

"She's shoot you down pretty quickly, just watch," the brunette said knowingly.

"Whatever. I think you're just jealous because you know that my questions are going to blow the rest out of the water."

Emma's confidence dwindled ever so slightly as they walked through the door of room 108.

The desks had all be formed into a circle, and sitting in the middle by her own desk was Ms. Mills, clad in a while floral shirt and beige pants, with black sandals and black circular earring to match. Her lipstick was a bright pink and her cheekbones jutted out, framing all of her features perfectly. Her short black hair was flipped up at the ends, as usual, and she had on a pair of black glasses. Emma stood in the doorway, gaping, before Belle smacked her upside the head and pulled her arm towards two desks in the circle. The two of them sat down opposite Ms. Mills as the rest of the students began filing in. Emma watched Ms. Mills closely while waiting for the bell to ring. In front of her was a clipboard with names on it, and a black notebook. Emma found it strange that she doodled while she waited for the class to file in, drawing circles and squiggles with her right hand. Her fingers were long a femininely shaped, with a short, healthy filed nails.

_"Oh cool, she's a righty just like me,"_ Emma thought.

Then, something struck Emma's eye that she hadn't noticed the first day. Around her left hand ring finger sat a beautiful two-tiered ring, with round diamonds and sapphire hearts shapes overlapping all around the silver. It was big, beautiful, and it glowed, much like Ms. Mills herself.

Emma's heart skipped a beat. She knew what a ring like that on the left hand meant.

_Married._

Her eyes shot up to Ms. Mills face. She found that the brunette beauty had been watching her, and she responded by quickly looking away to the whiteboard. Emma saw that the class had quickly filled up and the bell rang.

"Ok, let's get started!" Ms. Mills called out from where she sat. The class got quieter as she proceeded to take attendance, eyes carefully and purposefully scanning over everyone in the class. She placed her pen down on the desk and folded her hands neatly.

"So, we had three questions about the book due today. I assigned these questions so that we can begin to ask our classmates about our own curiosities and observations, and thus, we challenge each other with thoughts and ideas."

Her eyes scanned the room once more, obviously looking for her first victim.

"Ah, Louise, why don't you begin by asking us your first question? Then we will go around that way," She said as she pointed in the direction Emma was sitting.

"_Shit, I'm next!" _Emma thought.

Louise spurted out her answer and Ms. Mills nodded, looking around the class to see if there was any response. When there wasn't, she began to clarify and phrase the question in a different way. Emma observed the way she rolled her head when she was about to speak, and the way her lips formed the words before they even came out of her mouth.

"But what was the significance of seeing these mirror images? What do they signify?"

Emma gulped. The first girl was being scrutinized and she was way smarter than the blonde could ever be. The young girl zoned out a bit, being awakened in panic by Ms. Mills' deep, luscious voice.

"Emma, it's your turn."

Emma snapped out of it, and looked at the older brunette, who was prodding her with her dark eyes. Emma's mouth hung open and she looked around the room at all the faces who appeared to be judging her every move. She looked over at Belle, who was not looking at her, but instead at the other side of the room.

"I…uh…um."

Emma scrambled to find her questions on her notebook. With her finger, she pressed down and slid until she found question number one. She took a deep breath.

"Er, question number one…what is significant about the relationship between…Vida and Margaret?"

As soon as the question left her mouth, she could feel the tension in the room. Someone coughed very loudly. It was so very quiet. Emma could not bring herself to look at Ms. Mills. The teacher broke the silence.

"That's not a good question," Regina started, "because it's not specific to any sort of plot devices that may have been used. A better question would have been, what are the symbols in the story that tie the two women together and how were they used, tying them in with a theme in the story?"

A boy named Rufus raised his hand and answered the question.

Emma felt all the blood drain out of her face. Her body grew extremely cold, and she began to shiver.

_So embarrassed._

For the rest of the class, Emma sat quietly as everyone else read their questions, hers being some of the worst. She felt that maybe she really wasn't prepared for this class, that maybe it was indeed, much too hard. Before she knew it, class was over and the bell rang. Ms. Mills told everyone the assignment before they packed up and left. Emma looked at Ms. Mills gathering up her things before she too left, wishing she would have paid more attention to the kinds of questions Ms. Mills desired.

"She doesn't even know who I am. She thinks I'm a total idiot!" Emma whined to Belle while going up the noisy staircase again, throwing her hands over her head in exasperation.

"Well, it takes some time to get used to her, and it's only your second day, Emma! She's never met you before and of course you're not going to get it all right-you have Smithsfield last year for English and everyone knows she's completely incompetent," Belle said, going through the doors of the third floor.

"But it's like she doesn't even _see _me. It's like, I'm just this shadow or something, this..outcast."

The word hit her hard in the stomach, as if a ball were being hurled at her unexpectedly. It felt so weird to admit all of this. Belle gave her a concerned look and hugged her when they made it to the door of Belle's next class.

"I wouldn't put too much stock into her opinion. She's just a lit snob. You'll get better, I promise. Just pay attention and relax," Belle assured her, patting her on the back. Emma frowned and shook her head.

"But you know I'll never be as good as you."

Belle smiled at this a tapped Emma's nose lightly.

"I know. Well, see you later at practice!" Belle said turning into her classroom, but stopping abruptly to turn around and relay something to the blonde.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you that I'll be late. I'm having a meeting with Mr. Gold today, so make sure you tell coach."

Belle's face flushed and she smiled slightly at this.

"But Mr. Gold's not even your guidance counselor," Emma noted, side eyeing her friend, "Mr. Hopper is."

Belle waved it off. "I know, I know, he's just helping me finish my college stuff. Mr. Hopper sucks at that. See ya!"

The witty girl ran inside, leaving Emma to her own devices as the rest of the schooldays drew onwards.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

"One, two, three and go!"

The Storybrooke High Colorguard threw their flags up in the air, one hand behind their backs. None of the girls managed to catch their flag perfectly-except Ruby, who had been the most fantastic of them all at flag waving.

The coach of the team, Bethany, clapped her hands together and shook her head, unimpressed.

"Ok, that really sucked guys. The routine was all over the place and only one of you," she motioned to Ruby, who smiled, "managed to catch the flag. You can do better."

She looked down the football field at the Storybrooke High Sparklers, shaking their behinds in rhythmic fashion, their blue and white pom-pons flashing in the fading sunlight. A sigh of defeat escaped her lips and she focused her attention back onto the guard.

"You see their charisma and precision? That's what I want us to look like. You can do elegance better than a bunch of cheerleaders, now let's try again!"

Bethany blew her whistle and the girls went back to start formation. Emma held her flag at the ready and took a deep breath, raising her eyes to the setting sun and the stadium lights up ahead. The football field always smelled of fake grass, sweat, and sex, which Emma was sure had been happening very recently underneath the tall rise bleachers.

"One, two, mark, go!"

Ruby was at the front of the triangle and started her solo routine. The captain of the team, Rosemary, despised that a senior was better than her at flag. Emma watched Rosemary stare Ruby down as she gracefully glided to the center of the circle with butterflies, spins and flutters. Emma may have been jealous if for that fact that she didn't real care. The only reason she had joined color guard last year was to be with her friends.

The rest of the caught up to Ruby and started their routine, spinning and twirling away. At the end, Emma ended up in her right spot and threw her flag up in the air, watching it's blue, white, silver and black streams ripple in the cool night air. The silver shined brightly in dots of black, and they strangely reminded Emma of a certain pair of eyes she couldn't get out of her mind…

_"Blue and black," _she thought.

The night was nothing but a shell to contain her excitement.

There was no feeling like the pit of her stomach erupting into a joyous symphony.

The world could never have provided her with a greater pleasure, and more righteous light…

"ARRAGH!"

Emma fell onto the ground, her hands meeting the faux grass first and her knees bucking in second. Everyone ran over to her as she lay on the ground, clenching her nose in her right hand.

"Emma, are you alright?" Belle asked in her thick Australian accent as she ran over to Emma, holding her back. Ruby and Bethany followed and kneeled down in front of the blonde. Emma looked up at the beauty queen and her coach, her sea green eyes watering, blood appearing not shortly after in oozes that flowed through her fingers and down her knuckles.

"I'm fucking bleeding, Jesus Christ," Emma mumbled nasally. Her friends helped her up while the rest of the color guard watched on in confusion. Ruby and Belle helped Emma walk over to the bleachers. Bethany pointed over to the idle lot.

"Ok, you all practice some technique while I try to quell the bleeding," Bethany ordered, eliciting a nod from the group.

They reached the bleachers behind the fence and sat Emma down, prompting her to remove her right hand, and after stubbornly resisting, she opened up her face and let the blood cascade down her lips and chin.

"Oh god, you really did yourself in, Emma. Why weren't you paying attention to your flag?" Belle asked, and Emma shook her head.

"I just got distracted, ok? It was an accident, it happens."

"Well you're bleeding pretty bad," Ruby said, making an expression that worried Emma a bit.

"Ok, I have the first aid kit."

Bethany made her way over with a red box, and opened it up. She pulled out some gauze and pressed it to Emma's face, placing her hand underneath the blonde's chin and pushing it upwards.

"Just keep your head tilted back and squeeze your nose. Here are some gloves, and some alcohol pads to get her cleaned up," she said, handing the products over to Belle and Ruby, who looked at each other disgustedly.

"Emma, are you going to be okay?"

Emma nodded and waved her hand for the coach to continue her business, and with that she nodded and jogged back to the group on the field. Ruby and Belle turned their head back to their flaxen haired friend.

"Great, now we have to freaking clean you up," Ruby commented, rolling her eyes and taking the alcohol wipe in hand. She threw the rubber gloves to the side and onto the metal of the bleachers.

"Stupid gloves, you don't have AIDS," Ruby mumbled, to which Emma snickered as much as her face would allow.

"Maybe I do, how would you know?"

"After all, her boyfriend _is _Neal Cassidy," Belle joked. Emma twirled her hand in the air for added effect of humor and they all laughed.

"But seriously, pay more attention next time!" Belle reprimanded. Emma nodded her head and let them wipe her up. After a couple of minutes she took the gauze off her face and and felt her head. A dizziness came upon her.

"Fuck. I think it's time for me to head home. I can just feel a radical headache coming my way that had my name on its lips."

"Ok, we'll walk you home. I've had enough of Bethany and her antics anyway," Ruby said, throwing a look behind her shoulder at the coach, who was currently shouting at the guard that was left.

"Yeah, good idea," Belle agreed, and they all gathered their things and left the stadium.

The walk to Emma's house was down the hill moderately far, so the girls had plenty of time to talk about their first couple days. Belle blathered on about how difficult and challenging her classes were and how many idiots occupied space in the rooms, while Ruby talked about all the hot boys she had encountered over the whopping 14 hours total that she was in school.

"And Chad told me to shut up, playfully of course, and I hit his arm and giggled, and he laughed back, and then we like stared into each others' eyes," Ruby indulged as she made magical motion with her hands. Belle giggled.

"Oh you and your young men. There's so many of them too, how the hell do you even keep count?"

"A skunk has her ways, I suppose," Ruby joked, doing a spin and walking backwards down the hill, facing her friends.

"Don't call yourself that," Emma told her friend, eliciting Ruby to make a motion of sucking dick. Emma rolled her eyes and looked over at Belle, who had her eyes on the orange-colored sky. She seemed deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Emma questioned. The smaller girl looked over to Emma and shrugged.

"I've got a crush too you know."

Emma and Ruby looked at each other, grinning.

"Yeah, who? Is it someone you've had your eye on for a long time?"

"Knowing her, yeah," Ruby commented.

Belle nodded her head and adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

"_And _knowing me, it's an older man. Can you guess who?"

Emma's stomach dropped. It had to be a teacher.

"A teacher?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah, but can you guess which one?"

Ruby turned back around and began to walk forwards again. "Does it really matter? Teachers are a no-go. They could totally lose their job. You might as well spit it out."

Belle smirked, raising her shoulders slightly. "Ok then, it's Mr. Gold."

Both the blonde and the wolf stopped dead in their tracks.

"Mr Gold? That old bag?!" Ruby breathed, incredulous. "You can't be serious. He's like, stupid ugly!"

Emma grimaced and looked down at her hands. They were clutched tightly around her own back, knuckles pale and white.

_Tension._

Emma didn't say anything when Ruby motioned to her. She simply kept quiet. A small flower seemed to bloom inside of her.

_"Maybe she'll understand now."_

"I think you like who you like, you know? Whatever," Emma said. Ruby chucked and kept moving.

"Ok, whatever freaks. I'm just going to concentrate on hot young dudes and bleach my brain from any thoughts you might have about your old man peen."

Belle and Emma both smiled at each other, nodding. Best friend always understood.

"So, what about your days Emma?" Ruby called from ahead.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it in contemplation. She rubbed her lips together thoughtfully, brow knitted.

"You know, it's just been academic for me. Focusing on the academics, not trying to get involved with any drama, ignoring the clowns."

"Oh, now that's not true Emma! I know Ms. Mills has been making you pretty nervous, so you can't say there is _no _drama," Belle admitted, skipping a beat in her step. Emma shook her head, trying to look like she didn't real care.

"No, no, I don't really care about her…I just want to make sure I get the grade."

"Well from what I've been observing, you seem to be a little entranced by her, no?" Belle pressed, wiggling her eyebrows. Emma frowned and waved the brunette away.

"Yeah, she's fascinating and scary, whatever, but I'll get through, it's cool," Emma said, trying to stay calm. Belle nodded her head, clearly not in agreement, but dropped the subject because they were nearly at Emma's house at this point. Parked in front of the hydrant was Neal's infamous pontiac sun fire beater. A smile rose on Emma's features when she saw it.

"Ah, look who's decided to show his face at this hour. Neal-y boy!" Ruby shouted out. The three strolled up to the vehicle, and Emma climbed in the passenger's seat without hesitation.

"You know you're not supposed to park in front of a hydrant, dumbass," Ruby said smartly, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket.

"You and you're an underage who is technically not allowed to be smoking. How the hell do you even get those anyway?" Neal asked, planting a kiss on Emma's lips, one hand hanging over the steering wheel. Ruby responded by sticking out her tongue and blowing smoke openmouthed at him. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and looked back over at her friends through the window.

"Thanks for walking me home, I think I can handle myself from here," She said as she winked over at her gruff-looking boyfriend. The two girls nodded and waved at her.

"But I thought you had a made headache?" Ruby mentioned.

"All better! Now scram!" Emma ordered playfully and the two girls began to make their way to their own houses.

"Ok, see ya then, have fun you two!" Belle shouted as she and Ruby walked away. It was just Emma and Neal now.

"How was guard?" Neal asked before noticing the blonde's nose. "What the hell happened to your nose, Emma?"

Emma felt the bridge of her nose and winced.

" I hit it with a flag. Wasn't paying attention," She responded sheepishly. Neal worked his eyes over her face and nodded slowly.

"Well that's obvious. Do you wanna go get a shake and a burger to ease the pain? My treat."

Emma's face lit up. Burgers and shakes were her absolute favorite foods, besides apple cinnamon french toast and hot chocolate.

"Hells yeah!" Emma exclaimed, and with that Neal turned on the engine, planted another kiss on his girlfriend, and sped away in a dark cloud of smoke.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

Regina Mills's heel's clicked on the floor tiles as she made her way into the guidance office. The secretary smiled at her as she entered, Regina returning the favor.

"Good morning Regina, how are you today?"

Regina had a cup of coffee in her hand and walked over to the coffee dispense at the opposite side of the room. She picked up the pot and began to pour.

"I am fine, how about yourself, Eliza?" she asked, bringing the now steaming cup to her lips and rotating on her heel to face the frazzled blonde secretary.

"I'm just great. In to see Gold?"

"Yes, I just need to speak with him about one of my students and their classroom placement," Regina explained, coming closer to the woman, a sly smile growing on her full, purple tinted lips. The secretary scrambled to grab some papers and check the counselor's schedule. She licked her fingers and flipped over multiple sheets of paper until she managed to find what she was looking for. She smashed her finger to the spot.

"Ah..yes! It does appear he is available. You can go see him."

Regina's smile grew wider and she placed one of her hand's to the back of the secretary's. Eliza blushed and began to breathe hard.

"Thank you," Regina said, before entering the dimly lit, carpeted hallway to Gold's office. Her heels were muted in her walk to the very end where his dark-wooded door sat in the corner on the right. She stopped in front it, peering into the glass where she could see him sitting at his desk, writing something down with his red pen that he adored so much. She narrowed her eyes before rapping her knuckles on the door. When Gold looked up from his work, he saw her standing there and rolled his eyes. Regina waved at him patronizingly before entering and shutting the door firmly behind her. The room, much like the hallway, was poorly lit, with only a small ray of light peeking through the closed blinds and landing on the single chair that sat before the desk.

"Open some windows in here, will you now? It is quite dreary and has to be extremely depressing to your already marked children, don't you think?" Regina noted smartly. Gold ignored the statement and kept writing. There was an awkward silence for a while as Regina crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the carpet. Finally, Mr. Gold looked up and signed, throwing his glasses on the desk and leaning back in his chair.

"What is it that I can do for you today, Ms. Mills?" Gold asked in his deep, scottish accent.

Regina placed her palms on his desk and leaned forward.

"You know why I'm here. I need an update on the situation," Regina suggested, enunciating every word that left her lips. Gold smirked and leaned forward to her, folding his hands on top of his work. The one ray of light hit Regina's eyes and glowed amber in front of the old man.

"Ah, your eyes look beautiful in the light. You know I am quite fond of the light brown tones."

"Cut the bullshit. I'm getting restless. I need to know about this cure you said you've been working on."

"I haven't gotten any new information for you yet, Regina. I told you two weeks ago that I am working on finding the right formula from my lab. I have only been able to work on it shortly, and if you couldn't tell," He motioned to the papers on his desk, "I have other matters to attend to."

Regina sneered and stood back up, fist clenched at her side.

"You told me you would have an advance, some sort of information for me in _two weeks. _I don't appreciating you pulling promises on me that you can't keep!"

The last part of her sentence rose in volume and she looked hurriedly behind her shoulder. Gold smiled and put his glasses back on, picking up his pen and beginning to write again.

"I would cool the temper if I were you. I told you I will do what I can-and I will. Now if you would please go-

"I'm not going anywhere until I get a definitive answer," Regina threatened, pointing her finger. The veins on her forehead were growing visibly larger, throbbing with her blood. Gold peered up at her throughout the rim of his glasses.

"I would be careful if I were you. I needn't remind you who runs this school."

Regina knew the conversation was over once he waved her out the door. She stomped away from the guidance office in a huff, leaving a very worried looked Eliza in her wake as she watched her click down the hall angrily.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

Her slender fingers held the pen well.

Her right hand swooped over the smart board, drawing a red arrow over to another sentence. Her hips swayed slightly and she flicked her hair back before turning around the face her audience. The light from the overhead projector cast a blue luminescent halo around her dark brown hair, her black eyes glowing with the reflection of the light. Emma could see her plum stained lips curve into a small, inquiring smile; her eyebrows jutted upwards in juxtaposition. Yes, no? Did everyone understand? She flipped her hair again and turned back to the board to write. It was a cycle. It was how she taught. With such grace, poise, and style, and yet she was still floating somewhere in the stratosphere. How could she be reachable, touchable?

Emma didn't understand much of what Regina Mills was speaking of. She was simply mesmerized by her movements, her every glance and every inflection of her deep, rich voice.

She blinked.

She looked over at Belle, who was bathing in the blue glow of the room. Her hand rested at a gentle fist under her chin. She knew Belle was absorbing everything. With the room illuminated in such a glow, and with everyone watching Ms. Mills so closely, Emma felt like she was in a movie.

She turned back to Ms. Mills as her eyes traveled to her backside. Emma couldn't think of a better backside she's seen on a woman. Maybe she'd just never paid any attention before. The skirt was perfectly fit the her curves, and clung to her calf at just the right place. The ratio had been unbelievable.

As her mind started to drift, the more she got transfixed in the hair flip...

_Regina turned to Emma. She stood there, completely straight and still, entire body erect. The light from the projector illuminated her every feature. Her sandy skin paled and her hair glowed, yet her eyes remained as black as ever. She stared into Emma's own eyes intently, longingly before moving her stance. Her black heels clicked as she took one step forward, and then another, and then another…_

_She was now bringing her finger to trace the lining of her blouse, such a subtle and gentle touch. She teased the edge a bit and Emma reacted with what seemed like ambivalence. The young blonde grabbed onto the edge of her seat, palms sweating profusely. Ms. Mills only seemed to smirk at this and stepped ever closer, finally deciding to pop a button and let the blue light wash onto the skin of her chest. Her predatory gaze fixed itself on Emma even stronger, causing for the young girl to part her lips and give way to the trace. Two more buttons flew open and Emma could now see the top of the lacy black bra Regina had on. The older woman smirked before throwing her head back in triumphant ecstasy. She was so close now, Emma could feel her warmth radiating from the cold blue figure of the woman. She was just about to open her shirt completely, to let Emma see everything…she pryed both hands into the folds and began to open…_

The bell rang and everyone started to gather their things and head out the door. Ms. Mills strutted over to the light switch and flipped it up before returning to her desk, not paying Emma one bit of attention besides a small smile in passing. Emma shook her head and blinked her eyes, looking over at Belle who seemed concerned for her best friend.

"What was that all about? You looking like you were about to fall facedown into the desk for a second there," Belle said, hand clutched tightly around her bag strap.

"Ah, no no, my mind just kinda wandered, you know? I was thinking about my time with Neal last night, we had a lot of fun."

Belle's eyes narrowed and she eyed the blonde suspiciously.

"Yeah, ok lover girl. Come on, we're going to be late if we stall any longer."

Emma nodded and turned her head quickly back over to Ms. Mills, who was writing something at her desk, red glasses gleaming. The woman seemed to take notice and looked up over the brim of her glasses suddenly, to which Emma flinched and immediately started gathering things off of her desk, sliding them off of the wood and into her bag. She felt her nose, wondering if Ms. Mills hd seen the large bruise on the bridge of her nose. She hurriedly walked alongside Belle and out the door, secretly excited for 7th period the next day.

~SQSQSQSQSQSQSQ~

Emma laid on her bed, belly fed, homework done. She was staring at the ceiling again.

The fan went round and round as it had for so many summers past, and the pattern was cruelly familiar to Emma. She became so tired of watching the damn thing go around and around all the time, as it had always counted on her to ponder at such a time.

This time she pondered Ms. Mills. She couldn't help but wonder if she was ever going to get a chance to speak with the woman. Not just have a mundane conversation, but to really _talk _with her about things that mattered. She brought her phone to her chest and checked the time, brow furrowing at how early it was yet. There was a full moon tonight, and Emma always liked to sit outside in her yard and watch it as it glowed in the sky. Yet the excitement of the moon didn't rush to her that night, for the first time in a long time. Emma had some other itches that needed scratched. She glanced over at her laptop when a funny feeling hit her gut. The curiosity was too overpowering. She got up from her bed and opened the top, clicking on Mozilla when it returned from idle.

The google screen popped up in front of her and she traced her lips with her finger before typing in the name that had been on her lips for the past couple days.

What came up in the results disappointed Emma. There was nothing particularly interesting, so social media sites or Facebook pages. As she scrolled down, all the same things came to light. Regina Maria Mills, Storybrooke, MA. She clicked on one of the results links and read the information inside. Regina Maria Mills, 46, Storybrooke, MA, Cedar Ridge Drive.

_"Huh, so she's 46. Only 28 years older than myself."_

Emma shook her head at her own thoughts and continued the search. Her eyes scanned the page for any other info, such as spouses or relatives.

Strangely enough, she couldn't find much. All she found was a relationship to someone named Cora Mills.

_"Must be her mother," _Emma thought.

Still, she was glad she wasn't able to find any spouse of any sort, and that she had retained her maiden name. This made her so glad in fact that she closed the browser and shut her computer, sighed and hopping back on her bed. She felt like she might sleep, but it just wouldn't do, as she was too excited. She tossed and turned restlessly, looking at the clock on her phone. Once she was sure she wouldn't nap before the full moon, she brought over her iPod from her backpack and turned it on, dancing to the tune of "I Belong to You" by Muse. Something about the song, maybe the punchy piano chords, the rhythm, or the drama created by the bass reminded her of Ms. Mills. Maybe it was a the lyrics.

_When these pillars get pulled down, it will be you who wears the crown, and I'll owe everything to you_

Emma danced a bit on the spot to the outlandish synth noises of the song, thinking deeply about the dramas of Ms. Mills as she moved, how she was so flighty and graceful, but intelligent and elegant all at once. And that was it. There was some intangible, dramatic characteristic about Regina that she just could not resist. And it was unlike anything she has ever seen. It was so different from who she was and yet, it was everything she ever craved in another human being.

And such is infatuation.

Emma realized that the full moon was probably out after dancing around for an hour or so, and she bolted out of her room gleefully to the front door, where she ran to the yard and starting spinning her body underneath the moonlight. She glanced at it, head turned sideways, drinking in all it's beauty. She breathed the cool summer air and felt all it's earthiness enter her being. There was nothing better than this dance in the grass, with the dry, chilly blades beneath her feet and the winds slipping through her fingers.

She didn't care who saw.

All she knew was this was the best moonlight dance she'd had in a long time. Because she had something to aspire to, something to live for, and a joy that blossomed and bloomed in her heart, for real. And she couldn't contain it for another second.

She thought maybe she was in love, or a love-type-thing. Something tricky and sticky, as she already had a boyfriend.

But she didn't think of that at the moment. All she could do was concentrate on the moon, the tunes flowing blissfully through her ears, and the dark night that reminded her so dearly of Regina's eyes, as it wore the glowing yellow orb as its pendant.


End file.
